


Exploits of Power

by Drawinganimemaster



Series: In Every Universe [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Blood, Dark Adora, F/F, Pining, Violence, dark Catra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28966512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drawinganimemaster/pseuds/Drawinganimemaster
Summary: Three members of the golden quartet take the Floo Network out of London after Adora is put on Holiday after a trying case she’s been working for the past six months. Bow and Adora thought it wise to warn the unsuspecting party, but Glimmer doesn’t want to take no for an answer, and so, that’s how Catra spills her wine at the door—shocked, and bewildered, as Glimmer shoves her way into Catra’s flat in New York with a sheepish Bow and Adora in tow.And Catra thought the Americans were the dramatic ones.Harry Potter AU (post graduation)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra)
Series: In Every Universe [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909423
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	1. How Longs it Been…?

0

**Downtown** in some leaky alleyway on the upper west side in England isn’t where Adora thought she was going to be spending her Friday night; with all the tourist attractions, roaring traffic on the streets and sidewalks, Adora is surprised when her suspect breaks into a sprint giving her quite the chase. And of course she can’t use any magic to clip him at his heels or stun him with a hex because she can’t risk the muggles bearing witness—she’s also on the job and doubts Mara will be forgiving if Adora drops another incident report on her desk which will result in the Obliviator team to do some memory fixing. Mara trained Adora to become an Auror but favoritism can only get her so far. So Adora keeps her wand in the holder sewn into her coat lapel and doesn’t whip it out until she backs him into a dead end alley on the edgier part of town.

“Stop!” Adora shouts, aiming her wand at his back. Light shines from the crooked tip of her wand, she can easily see it fight off the dark as she stares down the jagged lines of the beech wood. The man stops, having no choice but to because of the brick wall blocking his path—the natural red hue has wilted overtime and is clearly visible under the cheap paint job. Adora walks closer until she is just five feet away. She demands, “turn around and keep your hands where I can see them.”

“...you think you’ve got me caught?”

Adora grits her teeth. She doesn’t have the time or the patience for small talk. Her legs are all but throbbing, being a witch has made her daft to the muggle myth that is exercise. “I know I do. And so do you, it’s why you’re trying to stall...you think you can waste time for your back up to arrive but my Auror’s are circling our location as we speak. No one is getting in or out of here, not even for a bloody roll of tissue, so just give it up so I can clock out.”

“You sound confident.” There should be a hint of humor, maybe a small lift to his voice, but the tone never changes—it remains passive, eerily so. The effect of his voice causes the hair on her neck to stand on end but what makes her wary is the fact that he still hasn’t turned around; instead, he speaks to her while staring at the wall with his limp arms swaying to the tides of the wind. He says, “maybe you’re allowed a bit of confidence...I know who you are. You’re the best beater in Gryffindor history, you were one of the hell raisers for poor Angela who was just trying to do her best as the Headmistress back when you went to Hogwarts...you’re a member of the golden quartet, you took on Lord Prime and so you are deemed as the girl who lived...Adora Grayskull.”

“So you’ve picked up a newspaper. Still going to need you to come with me.” Adora wishes he’d make a move so she can finish him with a lethal blow but, again, lots of paperwork for Mara. “Next time don’t try stealing from someone who works in the Ministry of Magic.”

“...a bit much, yes...but a huge part of the plan.”

Adora can’t stop the curiosity that causes her throat to bubble and then spit out a question. “You broke into an Unspeakable's flat. Did you really think she would tell you anything? She swore a vow that can never be unbound.”

“There are ways.”

Adora’s heart spikes. She bites the tip of her wand into his back and growls. “Don’t even try it, I’ll have you locked up in the coldest cell in Azkaban where the Dementors get the most rowdy if you ever—“

“It’s already been done.”

Adora snaps at the invisible work protocol ties that have been holding her back. She spins him around with her free hand with a spell ready on her tongue but she falters. “What the…”

His face tilts to the side with a grin that splits across his face, stretching his chapped lips so much that blood slips from the cracks and spills into his mouth. And his  _ eyes _ . She should have noticed the magic radiating off him before but her senses are seemingly dulled by a powerful force. Adora staggers back a step, stunned with shame and disgust when she realizes his eyes are glazed over.

Adora recollects herself. “I will find you,” she promises before whispering a spell to remove the Imperius curse from the unsuspecting victim. The glaze subsides, leaving behind unnatural black that soon fades into whimsical blue—his face and body begins to contort as the Polyjuice potion wears off as well. Adora leans him against the wall for her junior Auror’s to deal with while she apparates back to the loft.

She lands on a pile of garbage bags tossed out in the backyard, it’s not her best apparate but she doesn’t see any splinching so it’s deemed good enough. Adora runs to the front. The door is unlocked. She keeps her wand ready but nothing prepares her for the pungent metallic smell that punches her in the face when she cracks the door open. Her knees wobble, and suddenly she feels faint—it has nothing to do with her lack of exercise. Bile races up her throat but she forces it down...she can’t disturb the crime scene.

“Lonnie...no,” her voice cracks at the weight of the name. Lying on the white carpeted floor is Lonnie; an old friend, somewhat of a sister, who lived at the orphanage with her as a child before they all got drafted to attend Hogwarts. She hadn’t kept in touch with Lonnie after the war but she heard through the Ministry grapevine that Lonnie was thinking of becoming an unspeakable for the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Mysteries; an esteemed job...and now Adora’s looking at where it got her. On her back surrounded by a pool of her own blood, eyes stripped of life, with her throat slit open from a vicious spell.

_ It’s almost poetic _ , a sick part of her thinks. Unspeakables are hush-hush about their work so for him to strike the finishing blow at her throat...Whoever did this, he wants to leave a message. He wants Adora to know that he got whatever answers he needed from Lonnie, and it cost her life.

Upstairs, a floorboard creaks. Fueled by anger, Adora races up the spiral staircase towards the noise. It leads her to a hall closet on the second floor. She rips the door open, almost taking the knob off, and aims her wand at whoever is foolish enough to think she’d let them out alive after what they did to Lonnie. A spell slips and tumbles to a halt—the words get stuck on her tongue, she closes her mouth as shame, once again, tickles at her throat.

Little Lucy, three years old going on four, is backed into the farthest corner of the closet with her knees tucked into her chest. Little Lucy who Kyle probably takes time out of his busy schedule with to have tea parties with, who Rogelio probably taught how to ride a bike, who Lonnie—

“...auntie ‘Dora?” Lucy sounds lost, innocent, and afraid all at once. She looks up, squinting at the sudden light. Lucy must recognize Adora’s face from the old group photographs taken after the war; she shakes at the thought of Lucy’s parents telling Lucy about her while Adora wasn’t concerned for them one bit in all their years apart. “Where’s my mum?”

Adora tucks her wand behind her back and falls to her knees and engulf Lucy in a hug. She stays with the girl until Mara arrives with a few Auror’s and an Obliviator. The Obliviator alters Lucy’s memory of the night, keeping the real one tucked away in a vial for the investigation while the Auror’s take record of the murder scene. By the time Kyle and Rogelio floo into their loft Adora makes herself scarce.

No one tells them she was the one working the case.

* * *

“...even listening.”

Adora blinks out of her seeping darkness and finds herself back at the office with Mara looking at her across from her desk with worried eyes. Adora clears her throat. “I’m sorry come again?”

Mara throws a folder on her desk with a heavy sigh. She leans back in her comfy office chair and examines her best student. Adora wants to apologize for wasting her time on a hubris driven Auror who got an old friend killed because of a job that should’ve been another textbook case. “Adora. This isn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve known.”

“With any other case I would agree, but my team retraced your steps and they couldn’t detect any dark magic from when he would have cast the Imperius curse. We’re dealing with someone who can move undetected. It makes it harder for us to catch him, but you were the one who noticed his activity in town so you should be proud.”

“Proud.” Adora mutters in disdain.

Mara frowns. “I know this is hard...Lonnie was an old friend to you and even knew her partners but try not to worry. They’ll catch the man who did this.”

Adora sits up. “What do you mean... _ they _ ? You’re taking me off the case? You can’t!”

“You’re too close to this, Adora.” Mara raises her hands. “And no one is taking you off the case.”

“Then why…”

“Our suspect was seen walking the streets of New York City just a couple minutes ago.” Mara gestures to the file she threw on her desk. Adora picks it up and scans it even as Mara sums up the majority of the details. “We don’t know what his magic signature is so we can’t be alerted when it turns up in the system and so he managed to use the Floo Network and escape us.”

Adora shakes her head. “We can still—“

“He’s in America now. Out of our jurisdiction.” Mara sighs. “We have no choice but to trust the Americans.”

“ _ Americans _ ?” Adora makes a face. “But they’re dreadful, the lot of them, frying anything with a pulse and serving it as a high class meal.”

Mara smiles for a brief moment. “They have a great group of Auror’s in New York. A few of them graduated from Hogwarts, I trained them myself, so when I say they are going to catch him you better believe me.”

There isn’t much else she can do so Adora gets up. She asks, “will you at least inform me with any updates?”

Mara nods. “I’ll send over some paper clippings from the states whenever a case is made. But in the meantime, get some rest. You’re getting assigned to a new case starting tomorrow. I have some junior Auror’s who could use some help.”

“Translation?” Adora asks.

“They can’t lead their way out of a brown paper bag.”

Mara gives her the rundown on the idiot junior Auror’s she’ll be working with tomorrow before letting her go with not even a slap on the wrist for breaking protocol and leaving a civilian, slowly coming out of the influence he was in, alone in an alleyway. Adora deserves to be reprimanded for what she’s done, Mara shouldn’t have been the one to speak with her; it should have been Micah—the Minister of Magic himself—to land the finishing blow. Adora didn’t even have the courage to face Kyle and Rogelio, she hid her face like a coward, she was too arrogant and let herself get distracted and it was enough time for—

Alcohol. Adora needs a lot of alcohol to make it through this night.

She makes it to her flat in Paddington around 1 o’clock in the morning. The building is five stories with only a few occupants on each floor so she doesn’t have to worry about a busy elevator as she takes it all the way up to the penthouse: and it is in no way a luxurious flat, a nice wide open space with room to fit her bed and space for a kitchen but not much furniture because Adora likes to keep clutter out just in case she needs to relocate for work. She once went an entire month without coming home; she was running down a lead a couple towns over and it just made sense to stay close to the action without risking the suspect following her home.

Adora leaves her shoes at the door and puts up her protective wards before going for the liquor cabinet. She doesn’t even know what it is, something with a dark amber hue, she thinks maybe Glimmer bought it for her years ago when she first moved in, but it doesn’t stop her from cradling it into her living space. She pops the cork and takes big gulps. It burns going down. Adora drinks until her mind wanders to better days when she was the  _ chosen one  _ at Hogwarts, when everyone kissed the ground she walked on—except for a select few: Bow and Glimmer were always good friends who saw behind the mystic the school built around her. Them and…

In her liquor induced state, Adora scrambles to dig through her bedside drawer for the handheld two-way mirror she has kept tucked away for years. She hasn’t used this thing since she got into Hogwarts. Back when she got into Gryffindor with no choice that was her own. It was something that cost her best friend and it was of no fault of her own but it took time for her to realize it. And while they eventually did make up (having to save the world together will do that) Adora hasn’t spoken to Catra with this thing since they were kids—she doubts Catra even has her piece—so she doubts she’ll answer.

“Hey Catra…” she sighs as she sinks down to her wood floor with her back pressed against the side of her bed. “You probably threw this thing away...probably a good thing if you don’t respond to this but, fuck, I’ve had a shitty day and the only person I want to talk to is—“

“Adora?”

“Catra?” She shoots back. Her mouth is dropping to the floor as the one and only hell raiser from Hogwarts, the final edition of the golden quartet, Catra D’riluth stares at her from the other side with a baffled expression. It’s been a little over six months since Adora’s seen her, they’re both busy with work, so forgive her if she’s at a loss for words at the beautiful woman Catra has become overnight. No, not overnight. Adora has seen first hand the evolution of Catra’s maturity; the sharpening or her jaw (and wit), the wisdom in those mismatched eyes, and so much more she’s written about in her diary (turns out she never hated Catra, but she was a bit obsessed).

Catra smirks. “Are you drunk right now?”

“...no.” Adora’s tongue suddenly fails her, making her words come out runny like the egg she had for breakfast.

“Merlin’s beard you are.” Catra looks impressed. “I never thought you’d drunk dial me.”

“What does a bar of soap have to do with this?”

Catra rubs at her tired eyes. “Sorry, I’ve been hanging around a lot of muggles these days. Work related. They have these phones that they use instead of mirrors and owls. It's actually a huge waste of time, I swear, they have all these pointless apps...but I’m angrily ranting at you. Are you okay?”

Adora shakes her head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I picked up the mirror didn’t I?” Adora frowns. “Didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Didn’t think you’d call. I keep a piece of the mirror in my wallet just in case.”

“Really?” Adora’s stomach flutters.

Catra looks away. “I mean, obviously. The last time I didn’t answer you almost got eaten by a werewolf. Good thing Bow and Glimmer were there.” She looks back at her with a frown. “Don’t they live close by? You should get them before you do something stupid.”

“I just want to talk to you.”

A soft look comes across Catra’s face. “Okay.” Something green flashes behind Catra. It’s some kind of spell, a powerful one, because suddenly Catra’s pupils are dilated—she always gets excited by exploits of strong magic. It makes her itch for a fight.

“Where are you?” Adora asks.

“Nowhere important.” Catra looks at something over her mirror, and if Adora wasn’t absolutely out of it right now she would ask if anyone was with her but Catra is looking back at her again so her worry ebbs away. “I’d floo over but I’m in between flats at the moment.”

“It’s okay.”

Catra whispers, “you said something about a bad day.”

It’s Adora’s turn to look away.

“That bad?”

Adora tells Catra just how bad this night has been. The rest of the night is blurry; but Adora ends up falling asleep on the couch with the mirror tucked between her arms after Catra wakes her up a couple times when she drifts between consciousness on the floor.

1

“I had it handled.”

“You knocked Victor out with a stunning hex at a muggle bar in front of dozens of people  _ after  _ you apparated in!” Mara’s shouting at her for doing a poor, borderline horrific job, and all Adora can think is  _ good, someone should have yelled at me weeks ago.  _ Mara rubs her temple and plops back into her chair. “This is going to be a nightmare for the Obliviator team.”

Adora crosses her arms. “Those junior Auror’s couldn’t keep up, Victor nearly slipped from our fingers a dozen times because they weren’t battle ready.”

“Adora...you were being reckless. And the only reason I’m not reporting this incident to Micah is because he has known you since you went to Hogwarts and you’re best friends with his daughter so I doubt he’ll do anything rash and because of what happened to Lonnie three weeks ago. You were too connected to that case.”

“I should’ve been there to save her.”

“We can’t save everyone, Adora.” Mara sighs. “I’m putting you on paid Holiday—“

“What?”

“Just for three weeks, and then we’ll have a councilor check your mental state before you’re allowed back in the field.”

Adora huffs. “I can’t believe this. What am I supposed to do for three weeks?”

Mara gets up and gently guides Adora to the door. “Take up gardening maybe? Muggles say plants are good for the human condition. Or you can spend time with your friends. Maybe check up on Hogwarts to see what your professors are up to; they might be willing to let you teach a demonstration to their class.” Mara perks up. “And what about that girl you brought to my Holiday party a while back? Catra, right? Maybe you should finally make a move and stop acting daft.”

Adora flushes from head to toe and splutters. “We’re not...Catra is...we’re just friends.”

“Whatever the case may be, get some rest.”

Adora sulks back to her flat after basically getting kicked out of Mara’s office. She tries to take Mara’s advice but relaxing isn’t something she’s known for. But she grabs the daily paper and makes a cup of tea, it tastes nothing like the brew Perfuma would make for them back at school but it soothes her throat in a way alcohol never could.

She skims the news until one caption catches her attention.

_ The Times: Midnight Burglar Flees From the Scene _

_ The line of recent burglaries that have haunted our cities have ceased. According to an anonymous picture brought to our attention it appears the suspect has taken up refuge in New York City. The picture matches the assailants description and not long after the picture was taken a series of burglaries have occurred in Manhattan… _

The rest doesn’t matter. All that matters is Adora’s seen his face before—she wasted time backing an innocent civilian in an alley just because they wore his face. He’s going to regret showing it to her once she—

“ _ Squawk! _ ” Glimmer’s owl, Glitter (somehow Catra’s name stuck), flies in through her window and drops a letter on her lap. Glitter looks up at her expectantly with her large brown eyes. Adora grabs a slice of bread from the kitchen and breaks it up into smaller pieces for Glitter to nibble on while she opens the letter.

_ Adora, _

_ Don’t be livid but, Mara told us she put you on Holiday for a couple weeks. You’re joining Bow and I for dinner at our flat tonight, 7 o’clock sharp. Don’t say you’re busy with work because we all know that’s a lie. _

_ And bring wine! _

_ Love Glimmer. _

Adora doesn’t send a letter back but she does get her shoes back on so she can head to the store for a bottle of red wine.

* * *

At 7 o’clock Bow almost knocks her to the ground with the force of his hug. “Adora! It’s been ages.”

“Hey Bow,” she wheezes into the crook of his shoulder. He pulls away with a sheepish look but keeps his arm wrapped around her as he ushers her inside. Their flat is just as she remembered, almost identical to hers but there is a homey feeling about it like it’s actually been lived in. There are various photographs of Bow and Glimmer together, some apart, and some with their friends and family. She passes a vintage photograph taken at Hogwarts with the golden quartet tangled up in a hug, their clothes are soaked with soot and their faces are littered with scars; it was taken right after the final battle with Prime so the school is in ruins behind them but somehow they found a moment of peace.

“She’s arrived.” Bow says, feeding Adora to the beast and leaving her to fend for herself. Glimmer sets aside the big spoon she was using to stir the pot on the cooker. Glimmer wraps her in a hug just as quickly as she pulls back to flick her forehead.

Adora winces. “Bloody hell, Glimmer!”

“You work too much.”

“I’m here aren’t I?” Adora snaps.

“Only because we dragged you by your feet and you’ve got nothing better to do now that Mara’s put you on the bench.” Glimmer takes a spoonful from the pot and carries it over to Adora. It’s Chicken Tikka Masala, she can tell by the rich smell and the orangey color. “Taste this, let me know what you think. I might have left it on too long.”

Adora takes the spoon and tries it. She makes a show of tasting the curry on her tongue. She concludes, “it’s a bit naff…”

“You arse.” Glimmer snatches the spoon with a huff. “Go settle down, supper should be finished soon.”

Adora leaves the kitchen to help Bow set the table despite his protest; they get everything set up quickly as they work together and soon Glimmer is centering the main dish and handing out wine glasses. Adora wants to fill her glass to the brim but fights the urge to do so by shoveling Shepard’s pie in her mouth. Adora eating everything in her path is normal—safe—so Bow and Glimmer don’t question it. If Catra were here she’d notice Adora’s shifty eyes that glance at her wine glass throughout the night.

“So?” Adora mutters into her napkin as she dabs at her mouth. “What’ve you two been up to? Any interesting cases?”

Bow grins, he shoots over the table like he’s waited for someone to bring up his work. “You’ll never believe what Glimmer and I found in the Mediterranean…” he goes on about an exciting story about a trio of sirens his team discovered.

Bow is a freelance magical creatures breeder. When he isn’t breeding for local witches and wizards he explores the world in search of rare magical creatures that are at risk of being extinct and then moves them to a secure location so repopulation can occur naturally. Glimmer is an investigator, she works cases involving magical creatures, so her work lines up with Bow’s quite a lot. The sirens Bow ran into were actually destroying boats, when a questionable amount began washing up on the beach Glimmer and her team of investigators were sent out to scope the scenes. She ran into Bow at the docks and they decided to complete the case together; they hadn’t seen each other in a couple days so it worked out well.

Bow continues, “they get a bad reputation but they’re actually lovely creatures.”

Glimmer nods. “It’s not their fault they were cursed all those years ago.”

“So you just let them go?” Adora asks. “Despite all the things they’ve done? All the people they’ve killed.”

Glimmer sighs. “It’s complicated. The Ministry knows the sirens have little control over their actions but there’s also no known way to reverse the spell so we can’t just let them go. The people in the big office will probably send them to the Bermuda triangle but I swear one day that place is going to be overpopulated. We need a better solution.”

“We have all this magic but can’t cure a curse.” Bow shakes his head. “This is making me sad. Can we talk about something else?”

Glimmer hesitates. “This’ll probably make you even sadder…”

Bow takes a hefty sip of wine.

“...but can we talk about the elephant in the room?” Glimmer looks at her with worry seeping from the sems. “Mara put you on Holiday a few weeks after Lonnie’s murder...I know you grew up with her so it must’ve been hard for you. Why didn’t you reach out to us?”

Adora grabs her wine but doesn’t drink just yet. “I was still processing.”

“Do you know which Auror’s were put on the case? Maybe they can give you some closure. They’ve probably caught the person who did it by now.”

Adora takes a sip of wine and then swiftly says, “no...I don’t, wish I did but sometimes Auror’s are worse than Unspeakables, you know? And even if they did catch the person who did it, they don’t broadcast it in the papers when the death involves someone in the Ministry. It would cause a panic if the public knew how easy it is for someone in such a high power to be taken out.” Glimmer likely learned about Lonnie’s death from Micah but not because he wanted to tell her but because he was worried about Adora's wellbeing.

Glimmer looks solemn all of a sudden, probably thinking about Micah, and his job as the Minister of Magic, and all the secrets he has to keep from his family. After a short pause she mutters, “I get it.”

Adora marvels at herself while Bow places a comforting hand atop Glimmer’s. Adora remembers there being a time where she was a terrible liar.

“Moving on to a less dreary subject,” Bow says, “I ran into Catra a few weeks ago.”

Adora almost spills her wine. “Really? Where?” 

“New Zealand.” Bow laughs at her baffled expression. “I know! It was so random. I was chasing down a lead on some poachers who were hunting a magical creature we’ve never dealt with before. The two guys split up so I chased one of them into a corner down by the quarry. Let the record show, I could’ve taken him out but I was taking extra precaution because of the neighboring town a few miles down when Catra stuns the guy with a nasty hex—out of nowhere! 

“She told me she was doing New Zealand’s Ministry a favor because they were short on Obliviators and she happened to be there. She said she stopped for some lunch when she felt an invisible force breeze past her on the street. She followed it to the quarry and saw me backed into a corner, helped me tackle the rest of the poachers and followed the magical energy while I stood back to wait for the investigators to arrive. Catra said the magic called out to her; turns out, we discovered a new species of Kryten. They shift to take the form of those they imprint on, relaying their hosts emotions through their appearance—they even turn invisible when they feel threatened!

“Melog is the last of its kind, as they know of, Catra seems to be the only one who can communicate with them for now. Melog said a lot of their kind got scattered across the globe when the wizards took over and hunted them for their personal gain. Melog was so fond of Catra the investigators took down whatever information they could and let Catra leave with them. Wasn’t much we could do when Melog was raging at anyone who tried to take them away from her. So, long story short, Catra has a familiar now and it takes on the form of a cute Tom-cat.”

Adora can imagine the chaos Melog is wrecking in Catra’s life. She laughs so hard her stomach starts to burn. “It only took her what...eleven years for her to find a familiar who can handle her attitude.”

Bow whispers, “and guess what else.”

Adora doesn’t hazard a guess, Catra is wonderfully unpredictable, but she does raise a questionable brow.

“She’s living in America now.”

Adora chokes out, “ _ what _ ?”

Bow throws his head back and laughs. “I know, right? I can’t imagine her there either but...you know Catra, she can pretty much adjust to anything.”

Adora looks down at her unfinished meal. She asked for seconds but during Bow’s telling of his encounter with Catra her plate grew cold from the draft leaking through the kitchen window—the steam long gone. Adora mutters, “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not a permanent address,” Bow says softly. “I don’t know if she did it or not but, back when I last saw her in New Zealand, she told me she was stepping away from being an Obliviator...she mentioned becoming an Unspeakable.”

Glimmer shivers. “After what happened to Lonnie? Is she mental?”

“She said she’s sick of getting to the party late.” Bow confesses, “she’s tired of seeing all those bad memories, being forced to relive them like she was actually there, said it’s hell not being able to change them because...it’s too late. I’ve never considered the work that goes into being an Obliviator but it makes sense that the memories being altered or destroyed are so dreadful someone would want her to literally extract them. It takes its toll.”

Adora looks into her wine glass—a flashback of Lonnie’s blood seeping into the white carpet shoves past her subconscious—she swirls the dark liquid until the memory fades, and then drinks the leftovers until the metallic taste is burned off her tongue. But it continues to linger like an ill smell.

Bow continues. “It’s a dangerous job but it makes sense, if she’s out on the field at least she’ll have a chance at stopping the events that can lead to the memories that haunt her the worst.”

“It’s admirable,” Adora whispers to herself. It isn’t low enough; Bow and Glimmer are giving her knowing looks. Adora huffs, “what?”

Glimmer grins. “You’re smitten.”

“This again…” Adora pours herself another glass.

“Yes. Again. And it will continue to be until I’m allowed to tell this story at your and Catra’s wedding.” Glimmer throws her hands up. “You two have been tiptoeing around this since you were first years!”

“We’re just friends.” Adora fails to mention the love confession she and Catra shared when they thought Adora was on her deathbed only for her to be resurrected by such love and given the power to finish Prime once and for all. But it’s irrelevant, it has to be— why else hasn’t Catra brought it up in the last three years? In her defence, Adora can attribute their busy work schedules to the lack of communication but not to the multiple slips they’ve had; like making out in Perfuma’s spare bedroom during game night, or hooking up on the beach during a joint vacation right after graduation, and...the list goes on. “Friends,” she repeats with a shiver.

“Since we’re all such good friends,” Glimmer says “we should surprise Catra with a visit.”

Adora flinches. “She hates surprises.”

“I’m gonna have to side with Adora on this one. Remember what she did to Sea Hawk’s face when we tried to throw her a surprise birthday party? And we don’t even know her address.”

Glimmer holds up a worn mitten. She shrugs. “Locator spell.”

Adora blinks. “Why...why do you even have—“

“Then it’s settled!” Glimmer stands up with a maniac smile. “Best friend squad reunion!”

* * *

Miles away, somewhere across the country, Catra accidentally breaks a vintage wine glass. She waves a hand to silently piece the shattered glass back together but when she holds it up there is a piece missing. Catra stares at the jagged crack left behind and then turns to Melog who is lounging in the windowsill after the daunting day they’ve both had.

Catra mutters, “I have a bad feeling about tonight.”

2

Glimmer insists on them leaving as soon as possible. “When is the last time we just dropped everything and went on a little trip?”

“When Prime sent his Dementors to—“

“Rhetorical Bow.” Glimmer says, “but the correct answer would’ve been when we were at Hogwarts. Now we’re old and in our twenties playing the role of the boring adults. We’re so focused on work we don’t really do anything spontaneous anymore.”

Bow drops their bags at the door, frowning. “I work as a breeder for magical beasts,  _ you  _ investigate crimes they commit, Adora takes down the most lethal criminals, and Catra...she’s an unspeakable so who knows what she’s up to. Spontaneity isn’t an issue for us, love.”

“I hate when you’re right.” Glimmer deflates. “I just...I miss us all being together. Those two are always working and you and I get lucky when our cases align. I want to pretend, just for a little while, that things are the way they used to be...but, you know, the time frame where Catra stopped hating us and became our best friend and not the one where she made me throw up slugs.”

Bow stifles his laugh and hugs her. “We’re all here. We’re not going anywhere.”

* * *

In her bedroom Adora swiftly folds the newspaper she enchanted to show magical news about what’s happening in Manhattan. On the front page is the exact same picture of the man she chased down the alley way a couple weeks back. Adora places the news clipping into a safe, placing protective wards on it, before slipping it beneath a secret compartment under her floorboard.

“Adora!” Glimmer shouts from downstairs, “are you ready?”

Adora rushes down the steps without a hair out of place. She smiles. “No need to yell, I’m right here Glimmer. Are we good to go?”

Bow nods. “Car’s out front.”

“This is going to be a great vacation for all of us.” Glimmer squeals. “I can’t wait to try American cuisine. I want those fried Oreos I’ve heard so much about. And you,” she points a menacing finger at Adora “...you are not allowed to focus on work.” Adora holds her hands out with a sheepish smile.

“Of course not.”

It’s getting harder for Adora to believe there was ever a time she thought herself to be a terrible liar.


	2. Coming to America

0

_ Drip, drip, drip… _ the noise brings Catra to the brink of anger, but it does not drive her mad—it only delivers the finishing blow. She grips her wand so hard she worries about it splintering, but it’s a foolish thought cultivated by her overzealous pride because, no, Blackthorn wands do not bend easily. Especially not at her ungodly hand. She takes a single step—moments away from letting loose on the unconventional warlock who she is trying to pry information out of—when she hears an Angel’s voice. Calm washes over her.

“...there?”

Catra digs out the piece of the two-way mirror she keeps tucked in her wallet. She smiles, sharp fangs and all, as she finds Adora’s surprised, tentative, smile. It’s goofy, and completely moronic, and so Adora; she’s still shocked that Catra has their two-way mirror they used so many years ago to escape the world.

“Hey, Adora.” Catra flirts a bit, glancing at the warlock who is tied up at the moment before giving Adora her full attention. Catra waves her hand blindly, casting a silencing spell on the warlock when she hears him struggle to croak out words that get lost in the blood that’s spilling out his mouth.

“What was that?”

“Just my cat. They got into something nasty.” Catra says. “What’s going on? This isn’t another drunk call, right?” Not that she’s complaining. It was interesting to see Adora in her playful bout—it’s been absent these past few years—but, ever since the eventful night, they have made a habit of talking through their mirrors. Not about anything serious, just to chat about their days or to complain about work.

Adora makes a face that wrinkles up her brow. “You have a cat?”

“...it’s a long story.” It is. It also involves Bow, and a new species of magical creatures that may or may not be extinct, and Catra is not in the mood to delve into it. Plus, she’s worried about Adora getting sullen about her spending time with Bow instead of her; like they made a trip of meeting each other in New Zealand to hang out behind her back. It’s a dramatic conclusion to draw but Catra hasn’t eaten since noon and she has a grudge to carry out with her captured prisoner.

“I am very curious, but I don’t have time for a long story right now.”

Catra sighs, relieved. “Oh? Do my stories bore you? I am wounded.”

“Nothing to do with you.” Adora mutters, “Glimmer is forcing me to have dinner with her and Bow tonight.”

“The horror.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. The last time I had one of Glimmer’s meals I was stuck on the loo for—“

Adora cuts her off quick. “I remember.”

“A cautionary tale you fail to heed the warning to, so I must keep retelling it.” Catra breaks the act with a chuckle. “But really, it sounds like a swell time. What’s the issue?”

“Nothing really...I’ve just, recently, received some extra time off work and I know Glimmer already has a bloody itinerary ready for me the moment I step into her flat. She didn’t even give me a choice in attendance tonight.”

“Hey. Sparkles is just trying to help in the best way she knows how, and if that means she has to plan your entire Holiday then so be it. Planning is too much work anyway.”

Adora laughs. “Yes. We all know how much you dread planning.”

“Planning is dreadful, but..” Catra looks over at the warlock she has bound to a wooden chair by an invisible-rope charm she’s been wanting to test out for weeks. She looks back at Adora and shrugs. “The rewards are plentiful.”

“Sure.” Adora isn’t convinced but she lets it go. “Well, just wanted to fill you in on what’s happening tonight just in case I go missing—“

“Adora.”

“—who knows what Glimmer has planned. Last time we took a Holiday together I lost her on the hike during one of the worst storms of the year and I had to set up in some cave til morning.”

“Our senior trip. Are you still on that?”

“Magic was forbidden at the resort...”

“You were the only lunatic who fell for that bullock. And we told you where to meet us, you're just bad at directions.”

_ “Ark!” _

“What was that?”

“Glitter.” Adora turns the mirror so Catra can see Glimmer’s owl—she’s pecking at the window, pausing to stare at them with her wide eyes before going back to pecking. “That’s my cue to go. Wish me luck.”

“Hope you have a horrible time.” Catra says. She waits for Adora’s side of the mirror to go dim before she puts it back in her pocket. The calm fades. Catra waves her hand and removes the silencing spell.

“Hrrrk.” He’s choking on his own blood now. Before it was just a tiny clog but now it’s keeping him from breathing—she can tell by how wide his eyes are, glazed over with the fear of seeing what’s on the other side if even for just a moment. Catra sighs. She palms his chest and heals a few of his internal wounds, not enough to stop the blood from trickling down his lips but enough to keep him alive for questioning. “...what...are you?” He jumps away from her hand but doesn’t get far. His chair clips on its hind leg and Catra watches him fall on his back in the chair with a  _ thud _ .

She stands over him. “I’m a lot of things. None of them concern you. What does concern you is answering my questions.”

“I told you...I can’t.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you’re mental!” He shouts with terrified eyes. “...if you’ve given me...a truth cerium then...my word is not void.”

Catra teases the point of her wand with her clawed finger. She says, “there are ways of hiding the truth. For instance, if you for some reason have no recollection of the events that transpired then obviously a truth cerium won’t work. But deep, deep, down in… _ there _ ,” she jabs his forehead with her wand, “...the truth resides. It may be buried but it’s there. I’ll just have to find it.”

He shakes his head, muscles straining against the invisible ropes as he struggles to break free. His face drains as she draws closer in her kneel. Her wand starts to glow a luminous red hue as she prepares a controversial spell in the Wizarding world. “No...please don’t…” a wet spot forms in his pants, true terror engulfs him as he shuts his eyes so as to not see the face of his tormentor. “Don’t do this!”

“Funny” Catra mutters with a blank expression, “Lonnie said the same thing.”

The extraction spell does the trick. Catra delves deep into the depths of his mind until she finds the truth, and even after that, she keeps searching, consumed by greed and desire, until she has all the information she can get. The trade favors her; she gets access to secret meeting placing, espionage witches and wizards who have infiltrated the Ministry, and so much more, and yet—she can not rely on any of it. If working as an Obliviator has taught her anything, it’s that memories can easily be manufactured. Catra left the Obliviator gig when she learned all she could and mastered the art of mind manipulation, however, pride has gotten her in trouble in the past so she uses the memories she has extracted for reference and not a solution.

She frees him from the shackles of his mind before she remains too long—it can lead to brain damage and insanity, both too good of a death for the things this man has done. Catra twirls her wand in hand, thinking of a good way to end this, something that will send a message, when he comes to. He looks up at her, groggy, words a messy slur.

“Speak up.” Catra snaps.

He smiles, teeth stained with his blood. “He’ll find you...you’ve declared war…”

“No, I didn’t.” Catra presses her foot on the leg of the chair hard enough that it brings the chair upright. The man’s body lunges forward at the motion. He keeps his body sagging with his head down but Catra doesn’t allow him the pleasure for long. She tilts his head up with her wand and says, “he started this. But make no mistake...I will end it.” Catra grabs a fistful of his hair and keeps his head up. Her other hand rises as a spell begins to leak through the tip of her wand.

He struggles on his final breaths. He spits, “you won’t get...away with this…and still live...”

Catra hums. “What do the Americans say about Karma?” Catra mutters, and then nods when it comes to her. “Oh yeah. They say—“

Catra swings her arm in a fluid motion and lets the spell rip from her wand, chaotically in control. Blood splatters across her face and body as she slits his throat.

“—it’s a bitch.”

_ “Meerrw.”  _ Melog utters, in their true form, as they stalk towards her with a disapproving look.

“Nah,” Catra waves her hand and the blood vanishes from her skin and clothes. “...I’m in the mood for pizza instead. We can get Chinese another time.”

Melog huffs.

“Just give me a minute.” Catra says. She looks back at her soon to be masterpiece. She could send the corpse to the Ministry, a little gift for those espionage fools who think they can tear apart all that they’ve built from the inside out, or she can send it to the next randevu location he was supposed to meet his boss at. The issue is whether she gives any credit to the memories she obtained. If they are not altered then she can go to the randevu spot and meet this bastard once and for all, but it’s too dangerous so she barely considers it.

No, she should make him come to her. Back him into a corner by making him think she herself is in one.

“...to Manhattan you go.” Catra decides. It risks driving him out of New York but it’s worth getting a reaction. And by the time he reacts Catra will be long gone. The city was nice while it lasted, she enjoyed getting her shoulders knocked on the busy streets (who said sarcasm was dead?), but it’s time to leave. Catra never stays in one place long. She already has a loft ready in Italy so she can tie up some loose ends and work on finishing this case.

Melog hisses.

“He has to come with us! I can do a lot of things but apparating his body without accompanying him is yet to be seen. Besides, Manhattan isn’t far from us.”

Melog huffs, unimpressed and hungry, but wraps their tail around Catra’s leg for the ride.

* * *

When the body is disposed, Catra apparates to an empty alleyway in NYC just a couple blocks from her loft. Melog transforms into a Tom-cat to appease the muggles and walks beside her as they step out of the shadows and into the fluorescent lights. She grabs a pizza (as promised) from her favorite spot on the way home. The guy working the oven is a shaggy looking teenager with a pencil mustache, he’s dressed in loose sweatpants and a faded work hoodie. He looks as grim as the weather (misty and damp) but when he hears her voice he grins and runs up to the counter.

“Catra! Hey!” He clears his throat and tries to deepen his voice. “What’s up?” She does not miss puberty.

“Hi, Finn.” Catra smiles an honest one. Finn is annoying, always flirting with her even though she repeatedly tells him she’s gay, but there’s something about him that makes her want to root for him so he quickly became her favorite American when she first touched down in the city.

“The usual? I can throw in some extra fries for Melog.”

“Won’t your boss give you trouble?”

Finn snorts. “As if. I practically run this place—“

“Oh, hi Mr. Sal,” Catra says.

Finn whirls around and finds no one but his disgruntled co workers slumped against the wall going through their phones as they wait for the orders to finish. Finn turns around with a red face. “I wasn’t scared.”

“Sure you weren’t.” Catra laughs just to loosen Finn up. It works, he looks more at ease but the red in his cheeks doesn’t fade. “But I will take some extra fries for Melog.”

Melog slips under the sliding door between the counter and rubs against Finn’s leg. He says, “your cat loves me. Come on. This is a sign. I think you should go out with me.”

Catra shakes her head. “There are so many things wrong with that sentence. You’re only seventeen and I’m in my twenties…”

“Age is just a number.”

“Not according to the law. And Melog is not fond of you, they’re just drawn in by that bloody cologne you seem to bath yourself in. Probably smells like fish to them.” Melog chirps at her. Catra corrects herself, “not fish, sorry. Shrimp.”

Finn looks more lovesick than before. “You can keep bashing me but everything you say fuels me. I love the accent.”

Catra gives up. “Can I just get food? Please.”

Finn pulls a personal pizza-pie-box from under the counter and then drops another bag on top of it. He slips her a receipt and hands her a pen to sign. “Had a feeling you’d be stopping by so I had it premade a couple minutes ago.” Catra makes a face. She’s getting too comfortable here if Finn, of all people, is starting to predict her actions.

Catra decides on moving out tonight instead, she was going to wait until the end of the week but she can’t risk the enemy picking up on her next move. The randevu is happening tomorrow night so they’ll surely find the present Catra left on their doorstep and she doesn’t want to be anywhere near Manhattan when they find it.

“On the house.” Finn grins.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You basically keep the lights on in this place.”

“...which is why I should—“

“Have a good night, Catra.” Finn says, shutting down any of her rebuttals with a gentle smile and a kind nudge. Muggles in this city are kind, nothing like the vindictive—and destructive—witch she was at Hogwarts. The kindness she gets from Finn and the people of this city remind her of those three goofballs she left behind in England.

Catra takes her food and returns the smile. “You too, Finn.”

“Don’t forget to visit me in my dreams tonight!” Finn shouts, practically sprawled out on the counter. His blonde hair slips into his face a bit and Catra thinks (if he wasn’t a fool and could take a hint) that he looks kinda cute.

“...had to go off and ruin it.”

1

When Catra gets to her loft it’s a little past nine at night. She doesn’t bother with putting up wards because she plans on packing everything up and heading to the nearest Floo Network and booking it to her flat in Italy, but she has some time so she settles in a bit. Catra grabs a marble plate and dumps Melog’s fries on top and then sets it down on the windowsill. Melog dives in while she washes her hands and gets a slice for herself. When she’s done she gets a bottle of red wine out the pantry and sits it on the living room table.

Catra wonders. “Can you drink wine?”

_ “Meerp.”  _

“Huh? Shentaug?” Catra mutters as she gets a glass and walks back into the living room. She concludes, “so it’s exactly like wine but you just have another name for it? Can you get drunk off it at least?”

Melog doesn’t bother responding.

“Right. Magical creature...you have like a crazy high tolerance level. Mine is like that too, since I’m a hybrid and such, but it sucks when all of your friends are pissed while it feels like you’ve barely had a shot.”

_ “...meerp.” _

Catra gasps in outrage and betrayal. “There are bars for magical creatures and you’ve never told me?”

_ “Meerp!” _

“For the last time, I wasn’t pissed when I ran my bike into that stop sign. My body just spazzed, it’s a side effect from all those spells I took from the war. You arse...getting laughs off a war veteran.” It’s bullshit and Melog knows it but neither of them call her out on it.

Catra goes to fill her glass to the brim when suddenly her vintage wine glass falls to the floor in a heart tingling shatter. She watches, helpless, as the shards scatter across the wood floor in wild directions. She waves a hand to silently piece the shattered glass back together (no harm done) but when she holds it up there is a piece missing right in the center of the curved side. Catra stares at the jagged crack left behind and then turns to Melog who is still lounging in the windowsill after the daunting day they’ve both had. Melog meets her gaze, they share in her skepticism and unease.

Catra mutters, “I have a bad feeling about tonight.”

_ Knock. Knock. _

Catra turns to the door, immediately on edge. No one visits her. The only neighbor she speaks to is Mrs. Johnson and it’s only in passing during the early morning; the old woman should be sleeping right now, Catra knows because she has a hefty pile of sticky notes with various noise complaints from the old bat.

Catra gets another glass and fills it to the brim with wine. She drinks half of it, teases the tip of her wand that’s discreetly tucked inside her pants leg, and then answers the door. There’s a spell ready on her lips when—

“Finally! We were knocking on the door for hours.”

Catra spills her wine at the door—shocked, and bewildered, as Glimmer shoves her way into Catra’s flat in New York (when she should be in England) with a sheepish Bow and Adora in tow carrying the bags.

“It has not been hours.” Catra mutters.

“Well it felt like ages.”

And Catra thought the Americans were the dramatic ones.

“What are you lot doing here?” Catra groans, falling back into the door as she slams it shut. She waves her hand to clean up the mess she made while she’s at it. When she looks up Bow and Adora have the sense to look guilty but Glimmer’s having none of it as she makes herself at home by sitting on the couch and serving herself some of Catra’s wine. “A little far from home, yeah?”

Adora whispers to Catra, “remember when I said she’d have an itinerary planned? Well...you were the first stop.”

Catra groans. She glares at the ring leader behind this. “You can’t just show up here, Sparkles!”

Melog pounces from the windowsill and lands on Bow’s shoulder. They purr affectionately and rub against his neck before doing the same with Glimmer’s leg and then making their way to Adora. They stay with Adora too long for Catra’s comfort. Glimmer’s grin is nothing less than shit eating.

“You can’t be too mad about it if your cat is practically wearing your emotions on it’s sleeve.”

Catra scoops Melog up and hugs them into her chest. She huffs, “they aren’t my  _ cat _ . They’re a highly intelligent magical creature. Not a pet.” She lets Melog down and then settles into the one seater while the rest of the golden quartet take up the longer couch. Glimmer slouches back, twirling the wine in her glass, watching the liquid ripple, while Bow and Adora sit upright looking very uncomfortable. Catra slouches too and gives them the permission to do the same. At her relaxed gesture the duo calms down a bit but Adora still looks lost in thought. No helping that one.

Catra keeps her voice calm. “Not that I’m not thrilled to have you all in my living room but, why are you here?”

“Well,” Bow says after neither of them speaks up, “Adora was put on mandatory Holiday—“

“ _ Really _ ?” Catra leans forward with a devilish grin. “That must be driving you mad.”

Adora’s left eye twitches just a bit. She gives Catra her best smile. It twitches as well, lips curling up in somewhat of a snarl. “...I’m splendid.”

“I’m sure.”

Bow clears his throat and doesn’t speak again until Catra finally pries her eyes away from watching Adora squirm. He smiles nervously. “We’re all on Holiday. And there was a lot going on back home...so we thought—” Glimmer interrupts him with a tipsy squeal ( _ Merlin’s beard,  _ Catra thinks,  _ when did she get so pissed in just a couple minutes? _ ).

“Best friend squad reunion!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t want to make this chapter super long. I was going to include the events that take place after the golden quartet hangs out for the day but it would have been a lot and this gives me time to plan/outline. And I don't want to rush this like I feel like I’ve done my other story. Also, Coming to America is a play on the Eddie Murphy movie (it’s great, check it out if you can).
> 
> Some of the scenes/atmosphere of this story was inspired by Grace and Favour, a great Catra/Adora story set in an Angel/Demon universe that I’m super into right now. Check it out!
> 
> Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!


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